[Verse 1] Clinging to a rusted sky, Bruised by thunder, scarred and torn, Your angel still begins to sing, Soaked and heavy, once newborn. Now lighter than a drifting feather, Yet heavier than a bird’s last breath, And raising his voice upon a throne Of random words, incurable, bereft. [Bridge – female singer, gentle and emotional] Entangled in the rain’s own melody, Reaching for the upper air, It tries to shelter you from harm And still remain untouched and fair. [Instrumental break – soft drums, guitar echoes, rain sounds] [Verse 2] And soon the streams, the strings of flocks, Will face the silence, still and wide, The light he searched for all this time Will scatter across a hundred roofs. Reflected in the narrow walls, A shadow-ruled and weary strain, Without a flag, without a change, It plays and dries out time again. [Bridge – female singer, gentle and emotional] But in the clearings between the lines, That trace of a wing, too faint to name, And Van Gogh’s scream that cuts the ear Rings painfully, disturbingly off-key. [Bridge – slow tempo, deep reverb, ethereal female vocals] The rain fades out, leaving echoes and silence. The voice trembles on the edge of despair. [Outro – fading guitars, distant thunder, single piano note] Silence returns. Only a fragile echo remains — Like a broken wing in the rain.
